Kosher Eucharist / יוקאריסט כשר

3 billion Christians (except the Orthodox ones) woke up today to a bright Christmas morning, eager to spend the day in the warm and loving embrace of their families and friends, exchanging gifts and holiday cheer.

But for one young Israeli, the morning was bereft of that brightness, and not just because Jesus doesn’t love him since he’s Jewish. An oppressive gloom descended over the land, squelching all joy and happiness, as if Death himself extinguished the flickering candles of merriment with his bony fingers. For on this morning, James Brown was called to the next world by the great Funky Drummer in the sky.

“Please, Please, Please”

I heard the news from Harry before my usual morning CNN browsing. His IM popped up on my screen, the bleakly cruel letters spelling out “James Brown is dead!”, lacking any hint of the portent due to an announcement of such shattering proportions.

“Try Me”

“NO!” I replied. It simply could not be. James Brown survived the ’60s, the ’70s, disco, a legion of sample-hungry rappers and a persistent PCP habit. James Brown would not depart from this world quietly, without notice and without pomp and circumstance. I fell to my knees on the cold tile, begging a cruel and unheeding God to take me instead. I am but a simple Jew, the world has no need of me - but in this era of global fear and torment, it certainly has need of Soul Brothers.

“I’ll Go Crazy” (Live)

A part of me still refuses to believe it. James Brown built an entire career on theatrical death. The small part of my heart that still can aspire to hope wants to believe that this is only the biggest act of all, the closing, show-stopping finale of a long and storied career, that when all the solemn-faced dignitaries and politicans and musicians are gathered in the church before the flower-draped casket to pay their final respects, the Godfather of Soul will rise up before them and launch into a blazing rendition of “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag.”

“Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag”

What can I even say about James Brown? What can my words possibly add to his golden legacy? This is the man who, along with his legendary rhythm section, reached up to the heavens and brought funk down to the masses like a veritable Prometheus of booty-shaking. This is a man who has been leaving his mark on American music since 1956, moving bodies with his unstoppable showmanship when the rock and roll revolution was just beginning to brew in the dancehalls and record stores of America.

“Cold Sweat”

If papa had never got his brand new bag, if we had never been made to feel nice like sugar and spice, Eddie Hazel would never have melted a generation of minds with “Maggot Brain,” George Clinton’s Mothership would never have ascended, and Bootsy Collins would have been just an anonymous bass player, never having bought that first set of 9-inch-heeled go-go boots and star-shaped sunglasses. Vicki Sue Robinson would never have turned the beat around, no bells would have been rung by Anita Ward, and Cheryl Lynn would never have extolled the necessity of being real. We never would have suffered from fear of Public Enemy’s black planet, and hell never would have been raised by Run DMC. The world would be a different, darker, more funkless place.

“I Got the Feeling”

And on a more personal note, the tragic events of December 25, 2006 mean that I’ll never be able to fulfill one of my long-held life goals: to serve as the emcee of a James Brown show. There can be no better job on the face of this earth than to spend ten minutes warming up a crowd with a nonstop litany of “Put your hands together for the HAAAAAAAARDEST WORKING MAN IN SHOW BUSINESS, that’s right, he’s SOUUUUUULLLL BROTHER NUMBER ONE, the very GAWWWWWDDFATHER OF SOUL, MISTER DYNAMITE HIMSELF, give it up for JAMES BROWN!”

“Say It Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud”

Naysayers and those who wish to disparage the Godfather’s legacy, who believe it or not you will see over the coming days, will tell you that James Brown hasn’t released any truly brilliant material since the early 1970s, that he was a drug user and a wife beater. That may be true, but it misses the point entirely: the mere fact of James Brown’s continued existence under his ever more flagrant pompadour was enough, through sheer force of radiating waves of funkiness, to make the world a better place. It was not about the man himself or what he did, it was about what he represented: pure uncut soul.

“Make It Funky”

I take solace in the fact that if there is a God, and he does indeed preside over a heavenly host, that host is now led by James Brown himself, declaiming from the pulpit as in his memorable turn in The Blues Brothers, exhorting each and every soul in the next world to get up, to get on up, to get on the scene, like a sex machine.

“Get Up (I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine)”

Farewell, Soul Brother Number One. Thanks for always making it funky.